Oneshot Refugee Camp
by SpitBlaze
Summary: A bunch of random stories I did for my friends on DFAF. WHOO! ...no slash/pedo pairings here...but lots...and LOTS of insanity.
1. The Curious Case of Roger Joli

**WOOHOO. I'm doing this for the awesome people on DFAF. This first one's request was something like this:**

**The moment they stepped onto the mental plane, Sasha knew bringing the children along to the mind of a sadistic serial killer was not one of his better ideas. He held his hand to his forehead, sighing lightly at the expected squeals of horror and excitement that squeezed out of Lili's and Raz's mouths, respectively, like steam from a kettle. While he, being a professional and far more experienced in the field of oddities, was unswayed by the dark forest laden with moulding instruments of torture and the various whispers and rustles that tickled out of the deadwoods, Raz and Lili were all over it like a haunted house. They scrambled excitedly around the clearing like marbles dropped from a bag, leaving Sasha alone to stand where he had entered and groan. This was all Milla's fault.**

"Dahling, it couldn't hurt to bring them along. They would absolutely love it!" Milla laid a hand on Sasha's shoulder.

"Milla," Sasha sighed, "You realize what could happen if we do this. Besides, you remember the last time I agreed to go along with this, do you not?"

Milla bit her lip. Of course she remembered. Last time they went with Raz and Lili, Razputin found himself being dragged into a swimming pool of blood, and Lili was trying to fend off homicidal Griffin-things. Needless to say, it wasn't exactly a success. Of course, navigating with more than two people within a mind is very complicated. Oh, well. Why not give it another shot? They were already at the destination with the children, so it was worth a shot.

"Now, _mein kinder_, I want you two to remember that going into a person's mind is a job that is to be very delicately handled. I want you two to promise me that you won't get yourselves into any trouble or make the person even more unstable with your 'harmless' tomfoolery. Are we on the same page?" Sasha peered over his glasses at the earliest inaugurated Psychonaut and the daughter of the uber-directior of the IPA, the International Psychonauts Association. Okay, so Lili wasn't exactly a Psychonaut, but she was actually classified as one, her being the daughter of the chief executives of Psychonauts.

"We promise, Sasha." Lili and Razputin said in unison, in rather unamused and bored tones.

"Good. Now, let's see what we can't do with this poor soul." Milla crooned, opening a door behind which a notorious villain, Roger Joli, sat. Raz had read about him countless times in the newspaper, and it seemed that none of the Psychonauts (or anyone else, for that matter) could really say his name without following with 'isn't there any good news in the world?'

"I didn't do nothin'! I swear t' god! I was framed! It was a big misunnerstandin'! C'mon! I'm innocent, I tells ya!"

"A likely story, Mr. Joli. You realize that you have slain almost…" Sasha slid up his sleeve and read off it, like a child cheating on a test. "…300 innocent civilians?"

"I was set up! You's gotta believe me!" The man kept pleading in an obnoxious Philly accent.

"Calm down, sweetie. We will not hurt you. We are just here to help you." _Milla's voice is like magic,_ Sasha thought to himself. Her voice always seemed to soothe even the most restless of beings, including Roger. _She would make a great therapist, if not for the fact that she has a most useless taste in lamps._ Sasha thought again, lighting a cigarette with his mind.

"H-hey, guy, can I have one o' them smokes?"

"Sir," Sasha groaned, "You may certainly NOT have a 'smoke."

"Sorry 'bout that…but, hey! If you guys are here t' help me, do you think you could break me outta this cell?" Roger pleaded excitedly.

"I don't think you quite get what we're saying." Razputin crossed his arms impatiently.

"Now, I just need you to relax." Sasha took out his Psychoportal and planted it on Joli's forehead.

"H-hey, wazzis thing?"

"Just calm down. No matter how long we take inside, it will only take a few seconds out here." Sasha gave the signal, and the Psychonauts prepared to bombard his psyche, excluding Milla, who had offered to stay outside in case anything bad happened.

The moment they stepped onto the mental plane, Sasha knew bringing the children along to the mind of a sadistic serial killer was not one of his better ideas. He held his hand to his forehead, sighing lightly at the expected squeals of horror and excitement that squeezed out of Lili's and Raz's mouths, respectively, like steam from a kettle. While he, being a professional and far more experienced in the field of oddities, was unswayed by the dark forest laden with moulding instruments of torture and the various whispers and rustles that tickled out of the deadwoods, Raz and Lili were all over it like a haunted house. They scrambled excitedly around the clearing like marbles dropped from a bag, leaving Sasha alone to stand where he had entered and groan. This was all Milla's fault.

Sasha stood where he was for a minute, before realizing that the children had disappeared.

"Perfect. Just perfect." Sasha was about to go looking for them when they burst out of the forest around them, drenched in blood, smiling, them each holding up a large, demon gerbil.

"_Mein gott_, what the hell did you two this time?

"Well, you see, appearantly, the reason he was a homicidal maniac…" Lili started,

"…is because when he was just a kid, someone killed his pet gerbils, and…" Razputin carried on,

"…he flew into a crazy, retard rage…"

"…takes out his anger on other people…"

"…and we just solved that problem!" Lili finished, the both of them triumphantly high-fiveing.

"Well…that…was…very fast…" Sasha stammered, utterly shocked.

As tradition would have it, ever since Razputin had cleared his first official mission with Milla and Sasha, they all went out for ice cream.

"Sasha, dear," Milla said to her companion, "how did you clear that man's head so quickly?" Sasha stared at Razputin and Lili, playfully arguing over the superiority of chocolate versus vanilla ice cream.

"It wasn't really me…"

"It wasn't?"

"Nein. There were these two gerbils, see…"


	2. Fun with Mouthwash

Hey, guys! Finally, part two! Anyway, this one was made with these phrases sprinkled in, at the request of my friend, Durandana. See if you can find these...

**1)**"Okay, don't panic. Here's the plan. First, we hide the body. Then, we take the sharpies and… Wait! I still have to tell you about the marshmallows...!"  
**2)** "Was it all Dogen's fault? But how? Why?"  
**3)** "Oh, boy! You need a lollipop!"  
**4)** "The puppets made me do it!"  
**5)** "I once saw this on TV. You just put the two wires together and..."  
**6)** "It's coin-operated? You mean, with real money?"  
**7)** "Quentin… don't look now… but there's a tarantula on your shoulder..."

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Fun with mouthwash**

It was that time of year again. No, no, not the holidays. I'm talking about when all the weird psychic kids gather around at Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp to have all sorts of random (and mostly pointless) goings-on. In this particular instance, there were MANY random (and mostly pointless) goings-on. Why don't we take a look and see…?

* * * * *

"Hey guys, watch this!" shouted Nils. Lili and Razputin, sitting on a nearby log, simultaneously groaned. They were pretty good at doing stuff like that, being psychic and all. Either way, when a pre-teen boy (especially Nils) said 'watch this', it usually didn't end well.

"Okay, what are you doing this time?" Razputin just had to ask. I mean, why not?

"Well," Nils continued in a scientific voice, almost one mocking Sasha, holding two wires from the coach's car, "I once saw this on TV. You just put the two wires together and..."

"NILS." Snapped Lili, irritated. "For the last time, MacGeiver isn't always true! Don't you remember Mythbusters?"

"Feh! Poppycock!" Nils shouted, and put the two wires together, triggering an explosion that was loud and, well, explosive.

"You see, Nils," Razputin stated from behind his orange psisheild, "THAT'S why the Mythbusters have blast shields." Razputin watched as Nils coughed up a puff of smoke before he fell over on the ground.

"…Is he dead?" Lili went over and poked him with a stick.

"I…I think so…" Raz stared at the charred pervert's body.

"My god, this is the best day of my life!" Lili got up and started to dance, but then she noticed that he was breathing…slightly. Oh. "Uh…well…" Lili turned back to Raz, "I guess he's not dead."

"Well," Razputin shrugged, "now what do we do?"

"Okay, don't panic. Here's the plan. First, we hide the body. Then, we take the sharpies and… Wait! I still have to tell you about the marshmallows...!" Lili yelled as Razputin, being the nice boy he was, reluctantly dragged Nils off to nurse Cruller.

* * * 3 hours later * * *

"Uuuugh…" Nils woke up in the infirmary in a cot, with a searing pain in his head. He wasn't sure whether it was from the explosion from the Jeep, or Nurse Cruller looming over him.

"Oh, boy! You need a lollipop!" Nurse Cruller shouted in the young pervert's ear, realizing that he was awake.

"W…where am I?" Nils stated while suffering from a terrible case of vertigo.

"You are an idiot, aren't ya?" the nurse sighed and turned around to face Nils, orange lollipop in hand. "You're in the infirmary. You should realize that by now." Before the boy could argue, Cruller had wedged the citrus-flavored lollipop into his mouth. "So, why didja do that, anyway, hm?"

"Do what?" Nils asked, prying the sweet from his mouth, stopping just short of using a crowbar.

"You know perfectly well what!" Cruller snapped. "Oleander's car! Why didja blow it up?"

"Uh…" the peeping tom in training searched for an excuse, "The puppets made me do it!"

"Of course. The puppets. Right. TELL ME THE REAL REASON." Cruller was wielding a piece of sharp-looking dental equipment now. Nils gulped.

"Dogen did it! I swear! I was just caught in the blast! I was framed! They made me say that I did it!" Nils began crying, hoping that thing wouldn't be stuck in his mouth.

"Dogen?" Cruller seemed to be utterly shocked. "Really? Was it all Dogen's fault? But how? Why?" Cruller seemed to be going crazier. That is, if he could be any more crazy. Nils only shrugged, glad that his excuse was accepted.

* * * Meanwhile, in the lodge * * *

"Woohoo! Drum solo!" Razputin shouted, cheering for the Firestarters, the camp band. Lili said nothing, but held up a small pyrokinesis flare, imitating a lighter. You know, like in those concerts. Before anyone could do anything, though, the doors flew open and coach Oleander marched in, tailed by some guys carrying a huge vending machine.

"What the hell is going on?" Lili asked, confused.

"What does it look like?" The coach snapped. "We're getting a vending machine. We have to pay off the damage done to my car somehow." The coach eyed Lili and Raz suspiciously. The two exchanged glances. "Anyway, the machine is coin-operated. Simple enough, right?"

"Uh…" Quentin raised his hand, "It's coin-operated? You mean, with real money?"

"Yes, Hedgemouse," Oleander rolled his eyes, "with real money. Now, children!" He snapped, pointing at the now positioned vending machine, "I want you to be extra careful with this machine. It has a multitude of different items, so don't screw it up!" And with that, the coach stormed out of the lodge, muttering something under his breath about arachnids. Quentin shrugged, went up to the vending machine, browsed a bit, put in two quarters (arrowheads wouldn't fit.), and pushed a button.

"Well? Whadja get?" Raz asked with anticipation, wanting to know what was in the machine. Quentin simply stared at it for a minute before pounding the machine in frustration.

"Dang, yo! How come my Diet Brown refuses to be drinken?" Quentin started pounding the machine more. Phoebe came over.

"Got any problems with that, bro? I can help..." Phoebe suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening as far as they could go. "Quentin… don't look now… but there's a tarantula on your shoulder..." Of course, when the pyrokinetic girl said this, Quentin looked. But he didn't react. Not negatively, anyway.

"Hey there, lil' buddy! Where'd you come from?" Quentin put a finger to the spider, and it climbed on. "I think I'll call you Rex…"

* * * * *

And the next day, Quentin died of spider bites. THE END.


	3. War Stories

"Alright, kids…let me tell you about the time that I took out a rabid lion in Somalia with nothing but my bare hands and a bucket of water."

"We've heard it." Vernon said in a monotone. All of the other campers nodded. How many times had they heard this one? Two? Three. Coach Oleander frowned. He furrowed his brow on the platform above the roaring fire in the reception area, a bright light in the dark Oregon night in Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp.

"Let's see…" The coach stroked his goatee in thought (that was the whole reason he grew it, actually-to do just that) "Ah…how about the time when I saved the entire country of Paraguay when I-"

"Yes, coach." A few of the children groaned in unison.

"How about the time when-"

"Yes, coach."

"What about-"

"We've heard them all a million times." Raz groaned.

"Hm…"the coach furrowed his brow again. "I've got it! Have I told any of you guys about my time serving in 'Nam?"

"I…" Dougan muttered after a long, awkward silence, "I don't think so."

"Really?" The coach donned a shocked look, which gradually turned into a smile. "I've got hundreds! Let's see…how would you kids like to hear about the time when I was stranded in the Vietnam jungle, being hunted by a tiger?" There was a half-awed silence. The coach took that as his cue to tell his tale. His eyes glazed over as he prepared to tell his epic…

"So…there I was, in a thicket of bamboo, hopelessly lost, unable to find the rest of the regiment." The coach looked around. All of the campers were silent. Vernon was taking notes. Oleander squatted down and continued. "I looked high and low for them, but didn't dare make a sound, knowing the enemy could be anywhere.

"Suddenly…it got quiet…too quiet. I heightened my guard and looked around. I backed out of the thicket, into a smaller thicket of reeds, where I spotted stripes of orange…"

All the campers were silent with anticipation.

"I quickly raised my trusty gun, but I didn't fire it, because it would make the beast attack me. Tigers usually don't hunt humans…but this one was pissed, as in no-food-for-three-days pissed. He lunged at me, but I dodged, just in time. He lunged for me again, and this time, he took a chunk out of my arm, blood, skin and all." He paused to roll up his sleeve to show the campers that he wasn't lying. The campers stared at him in awe, Sasha Nein with his head in his hand, seemingly unimpressed.

"What happened next?" Nils asked.

"Well," Oleander put his sleeve back down and acted out the motions as he told his epic, "I cringed for a moment, still holding my gun. I shot at the beast, and hit it, right in the side. But that didn't do me any good. It just made him madder. I shot the thing a few more times, with the same result. I used it then as a club of sorts, whacking the tiger. But then, whoosh! The thing knocked it right out of my hands!"

A collective gasp was heard from the campers.

"I was cornered. I couldn't do it. The tiger was half-dead, but in a second I would be all-dead. I was backing up from it. Suddenly, there was a bump against my spine, and I turned around, and saw the bamboo forest! I quickly snapped off a sturdy shoot, and whacked the tiger square between the eyes with it! It fell down, out cold. Relieved, I continued to search for the regiment. By nightfall, I had found it. And that…is the end of the story."

All of the campers were cheering and whistling, hooting and hollering at Coach Oleander's best war story yet.

"All right, children" Milla cooed, "it's time for you to head back to your cabins. It's far past bedtime!" she pointed out, as the sky had grown darker as the coach recounted his days in Vietnam. The children groaned and wearily headed back to their cabins. After all the campers had finally gone, the three elder Psychonauts sat on the stage, gazing at the dying embers of the campfire.

"Maurice…" Sasha finally sighed, "I have a question. Why on earth did you go to such great lengths to make up a story for the scar you got when you fell on a fence when you were drunk?"

"Sasha, one day, you'll have all sorts of scars and all sorts of people looking up to you as a role model and a storyteller." Oleander turned to Sasha. "You've gotta tell the public what they wanna hear!"

Sasha stared at Oleander for a few seconds before turning his gaze back to the flame.

"That certainly would explain all of those horrifically false war stories…"


End file.
